The Roseview High Rumors

CHAPTER EIGHT - Pedro

Pedro rubbed his index fingers on his temples as he stood in the supermarket queue. He peeked over the heads of the people in front of him, and wished the cashier would be faster. Only his mother could persuade him to go on a grocery run on a day like this. She almost never asked for favors, and claimed it was for 'a special dinner'.

He was exhausted, and would have loved to go straight home after the away game at Westbrook High. It was an insane battle that almost ended in a tie. Roseview prevailed with a narrow 23-20 victory. And they hightailed it out of there before things got ugly with their fierce rivals.

As he ran a hand through his hair, he reasoned that at least the stress would be worth it. The food items he was asked to purchase were probably for his favorite meal. His stomach growled at the thought of delicious Chicken Menudo and spicy rice for dinner. He groaned with relief when he noticed that it would soon be his turn.

Everything is gonna be alright. I'll be in and out of here in no time with no drama, he thought.

"Hey there, Pedro." A flirty voice called.

Then again, maybe not. Pedro muttered a curse under his breath, and rolled his eyes. Perhaps he could get away with pretending not to hear. That idea crashed and burned when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked back and saw a slim, hazel eyed brunette. The girl looked familiar, but his mind struggled to remember when and where she was from. Was she Brenda from Houston or Kendall from Austin?

Pedro flashed his signature smile at her. He did not fail to notice some bystanders who pretended to mind their business, but peeked at them in amusement.

He took a wild guess. "Hi Br-" his voice trailed off.

The mystery chick put her hands on her hips and glared at him. She did not appear to fancy his fill in the gap tactic. "It's Jessie, jack-!"

Yikes, not even close.

Pedro switched to damage control mode and interrupted her. "Look, I'm sorry. Calm down, it's been a long day. Can we talk outside?"

"Fine," Jessie snapped. She tossed her hair and wagged a finger at him before storming out.

***

Pedro looked left and right in the carpark. When he saw no sign of Jessie, he rushed to his Jeep and loaded his groceries into the trunk. In his mad rush, he dropped the bag with eggs in it.

"Damn," he hissed. Fortunately, the eggs were cushioned by bread and did not break. Pedro retrieved the bag, and slammed the trunk shut when he was done. His heart leapt for joy when he slid behind the wheel, started the engine and drove out of danger.

For a brief moment, he considered Jessie as a make Augusta jealous candidate. He counted himself lucky that common sense prevailed, just in the nick of time. Jessie seemed like a drama queen, and he did not even know who she really was. After watching too many episodes of Psycopaths on the Discovery channel, Pedro was determined not to be a victim of one.

***

"Hola, mama!" Pedro shouted when he entered the kitchen through the back door. He dropped the groceries on the kitchen island, and washed his hands in the sink.

He heard his mother call out from somewhere upstairs. "Hold on mi amado hijo, my lovely son. I'm already coming."

Pedro took a carton of orange juice from the fridge and drank it straight from the container while he waited. Different pots were already on the stove, bubbling with soup and rice. Crunchy, fried chicken was cooling on an oven tray. The savory aroma filled the kitchen, and he helped himself to a piece of meat.

A wooded spoon knocked the back of Pedro's hand, and he dropped the meat like a hot potato. "Ouch, mom!"

Pedro spun round and his mum smiled at him with warm brown eyes, but shook her head. Her long, dark hair was in a ponytail, and her petite body was covered by an apron. Being a plastic surgeon, she spent a lot of time at the clinic. It was great to see her, and a welcome break for Pedro who cooked when his mum was at work.

"How many times have I told you to use a cup to drink juice, and to wash your hands before touching food?" she asked.

"But I did wash my hands," Pedro replied, ignoring the first question.

His mum folded her arms. "Is it dinner time? Have we said the grace?"

"No, but I brought groceries. Isn't that something?" Pedro retorted in a cheeky tone.

"Ridiculous! I paid for them, and offered you fifty bucks for the effort."

Pedro hugged her. "You're welcome, mom. I'm glad to be of service."

"I didn't say thank you," she joked. "Get out of here and go freshen up for dinner. Your dad is having a business meeting online, so keep the noise down with your stereo. Etiendes?"

Pedro nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I understand."

His father owned a multinational chain of hotels and holiday resorts. Controlling the empire was a full time job. Top priority over frivolous activities like football, Pedro thought bitterly.

"Isabella is upstairs and she's already dressed up," his mum added as she shooed him out of the kitchen.

"Of course she is," Pedro laughed. Her quinceanera is around the corner. She's hyped about it and will jump at any chance to get dolled up."

"Pedro, don't tease your sister."

He shrugged. "I won't make promises I can't keep."

"Pedro!"

"Fine, Mom. By the way, who are the special guests?" he asked on his way out.

She responded while sorting out the items and washing the vegetables. "The Madueke's. They're your Dad's new business partners, and we'll be neighbors soon. Their daughter goes to Roseview High too. Do you know her?"

Pedro froze. Wait. What's going on? Neighbors? Are we moving? Do I know their daughter? Where do I start? "We're moving?" he asked, deciding to address only that aspect of the information.

"Sorry, dear. I know it's a lot to take in, but you've been so obsessed with football lately. We didn't have time to talk," his mum sighed.

Pedro replied in a cool but firm tone. "My passion for football didn't start recently, and people make time to talk if they care."

His mother put the marinated chicken in the oven and sighed. "I'm sorry," she said. "And I do care," she added. "We'll have a warm and friendly chat over dinner, and everything will be clearer. Alright?"

Pedro knew there would be chatting, but was skeptical that Augusta and him would have a warm and friendly one. With the prevalent tension between them and parents and a pesky little sis as onlookers, it was settled...

He could only hope for awkwardness at best, and pandemonium at worst.